Dave Harrity
Declares Himself
saying that what comes (if it comes at all)
comes in fragments flesh naked stands
crossing in the mirror barking commands
for razor & brush or singing poor-me songs
through corner mouthhair sprouts or concern
for what the neighbors might think & her yelling
at him to come down off his fukken cross
so someone else could use the goddamn wood
but devotion’s clear
the frayed & steady knees of pilgrims with slacked mouths
& oh-my-gods & sweet bee stings
& ringing ears & ribboned backs
the truth of it comes in dreamy slices
(if it comes at all) & if I could I’d simply draw a map for you
penciled lines to where coins
stay buried & all these treasures contained in us
& what I want to know that crumples away
in X-ed out days or light twinkle-trapped
inside a globe of glass to swirl
& white clouds silver above the sleepy barn
or the crack & christened thunder croaks
or the bucket of hair he’d keep beside the washing tub
& I want nothing more than to save us
simply from our bellies or but just not a thing
except forgotten so why & why & why I can’t can I
